Chapter 8: The Second Signature
I didn't sleep that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the photograph of the man outside the motel. I imagined my father standing somewhere in the world, older than the man in the picture, wondering whether I remembered him.
Then I remembered the empty wall hook.
The missing violin.
The way Celeste had gone pale when she realized I had opened the case.
If my father was alive, why had he never come home?
And if he was dead, who had spent twelve years making sure I never learned the truth?
At seven the next morning, I found Brianna waiting outside my bedroom.
She held two mugs of coffee, one of which she handed to me.
“Before you say anything,” she said, “I know you don't trust me.””
I accepted the mug.
“That's an understatement.””
She nodded.
“I deserve that.””
We sat on the floor beside my bed. For once, Brianna wasn't wearing her usual designer clothes or carrying her expensive handbag. She wore an oversized sweatshirt, and her eyes were swollen from crying.
“I found something else on Mom's laptop,” she said.
I set down the coffee.
“What?””
“A scanned document. It's called a trust agreement.””
My pulse quickened.
“Did you copy it?””
She handed me her phone.
The document was several pages long, filled with legal language and signatures. I scrolled until I found the section identifying the beneficiary.
Naomi Rebecca Brooks.
My name.
The trust had been established twelve years earlier, shortly before my father's disappearance. Its assets were connected to an account at the same bank listed on my mother's music sheet.
A clause near the bottom caught my attention.
Upon the beneficiary's eighteenth birthday, the trustee shall release the protected assets unless the beneficiary has been legally declared incapable of managing the funds.
I read it twice.
“Who is the trustee?””
Brianna pointed to the signature page.
“That's the strange part.””
The document listed two authorized signatures.
Rebecca Brooks.
And Celeste Brooks.
I stared at the screen.
“My mother and Celeste?””
“There's more.””
Brianna enlarged the bottom of the page.
The second signature was dated October 14, twelve years earlier.
The day my father disappeared.
But the name beneath the signature wasn't Celeste's.
It was Marcus Reed.
I felt sick.
“The detective signed my mother's trust agreement?””
“That's what it looks like.””
I called Reed immediately.
He answered after two rings.
“Naomi?””
“I found the second signature.””
Silence.
“Where did you get it?””
“Brianna found a trust agreement on Celeste's laptop. Your name is on it.””
He exhaled slowly.
“Listen carefully. Do not send that document to anyone else.””
“Why did you sign it?””
“I didn't sign a trust agreement.””
“It's your name!””
“Naomi, there are things about that investigation I have not told you because I haven't been able to verify them. I need to see the document.””
“You saw my mother's letter. You saw the account number. You knew about the accident. How much more is there?””
He didn't answer.
I looked at Brianna.
She shook her head, silently urging me to keep pressing.
“Did you take money from Celeste?”” I asked.
“I accepted payment for my investigation. I did not accept payment to falsify documents or conceal evidence.””
“Then prove it.””
His voice hardened.
“Bring the document to my office. I'll compare it with the original records.””
I hesitated.
“Are you alone?””
“Yes.””
“How do I know?””
“You don't,” he replied.
“And that's exactly why you should bring someone you trust.””
The call ended.
I looked at Brianna.
“I need to get into Mom's laptop.””
Her face tightened.
“Naomi, she'll kill me if she finds out I helped you.””
“Then don't help me.””
She stared at me for a moment.
Then she stood.
“Come on.””
We went downstairs together.
Celeste was in the kitchen, pouring coffee into a travel mug. She glanced at us and immediately noticed Brianna's phone in my hand.
“What are you two doing?””
Brianna stepped forward.
“Naomi has questions about Dad.””
Celeste froze.
“My father,” I clarified.
She placed the coffee pot down.
“Not this again.””
“You have a trust agreement in your laptop with my name on it. Why?””
Her face lost color.
“Where did you see that?””
Brianna looked away.
Celeste's eyes narrowed.
“You went through my computer.””
“I was looking for my application,” Brianna said.
“You had no right.””
“Neither did you, when you sold Naomi's violin!””
Celeste slammed her palm against the counter.
“Do not bring that up again!””
The sudden sound made both of us flinch.
She drew a sharp breath and lowered her voice.
“I have spent twelve years protecting this family. You have no idea what I gave up to keep this house standing.””
I stepped closer.
“Then tell me.””
She looked at me.
For a long moment, she seemed to be deciding whether to continue lying.
Finally, she said, “Your father asked me to sign a document the day he disappeared.””
My heart pounded.
“What document?””
“A statement confirming that your mother would control the money until you turned eighteen.””
“Why?””
“Because he believed someone was trying to take it from her.””
“Who?””
Celeste shook her head.
“He never told me.””
“Did you see him that day?””
She looked toward the window.
“Yes.””
The word nearly knocked the air from my lungs.
“You saw my father the day he disappeared?””
“Yes.””
“Was he alive?””
Celeste's lips trembled.
“He was standing in this kitchen. He hugged your mother, kissed your forehead, and told me he would come back before your next birthday.””
I stared at her.
“Then why did you tell me he died?””
“Because three days later, the police came to this house. They showed us photographs of the wrecked car. They told us Isaiah was presumed dead. And two weeks after that, someone called me and said that if I ever admitted seeing him alive on October 14, I would lose both girls.””
My anger faltered.
“Who threatened you?””
“I never saw the person.””
“Did you tell the police?””
“No.””
“Why not?””
Celeste's eyes filled with tears.
“Because I was afraid they would take you away from me.””
I looked at Brianna, who stood motionless beside the kitchen island.
For the first time, I understood that Celeste's secrets might have been built out of fear rather than simple greed.
But fear didn't excuse what she had done.
“You could have told me the truth,” I whispered.
“I know.””
“You could have let me keep my mother's violin.””
“I know.””
“You made me believe I had nothing.””
Celeste lowered her head.
“I know.””
The admission left me with nowhere to direct my anger.
Then Brianna's phone rang.
An unknown number.
She answered on speaker.
“Hello?””
A man's voice came through.
“Is Naomi there?””
I took the phone.
“Who is this?””
“My name is David. I worked with your father.””
“Where is he?””
“I can't tell you that yet. But I know what happened on October 14.””
I looked at Celeste.
Her face had gone white.
“Tell me,” I demanded.
David spoke slowly.
“Your father didn't disappear because he wanted to abandon you. He disappeared because someone inside your family gave him an ultimatum.””
My throat tightened.
“Who?””
There was a pause.
Then he said, “The person who signed the second copy of the trust agreement.””
I looked down at the document on Brianna's phone.
Marcus Reed's name was printed beneath the signature.
But Celeste was staring at the page as though she had just seen a ghost.
“No,” she whispered.
I turned toward her.
“What?””
She shook her head.
“That isn't Marcus's signature.””
David's voice came through the speaker again.
“Naomi, the person who signed that document wasn't the detective.””
I felt the room tilt.
“Then who was it?””
David paused.
“Your father used another name for years. The signature belongs to the man who helped him disappear.””
The call ended.
And on Brianna's phone, a new photograph appeared.
It showed a second copy of the trust agreement.
This one carried a different name beneath the signature.
*Daniel Brooks.*
Celeste covered her mouth.
Brianna looked at me.
“Naomi,” she whispered, “who is Daniel Brooks?””
May you like
Before I could answer, Celeste said something that shattered every explanation I had left.
“That's your father's real name.””
